


Best Not Think About Where They Go

by MinervaEvenstar



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dialogue-Only, First Time, Fluff and Humor, Love Confessions, Making an Effort on a Tartan Blanket, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Content, Unspecififed Ambiguous Genders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 14:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12459888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinervaEvenstar/pseuds/MinervaEvenstar
Summary: A conversation about love begins by embarrassing Crowley and ends with Aziraphale wondering where his clothing is. A romantic comedy done entirely in dialogue





	Best Not Think About Where They Go

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Crowley and Aziraphale are the Creations of the Ineffable Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.
> 
> Setting: The time is post book. The place is irrelevant; they could be alone at either of the supernatural being’s homes, or...anywhere private, really.

Best Not Think About Where They Go

“Crowley, I wanted to say I'm sorry.”

“For accepting a dinner invitation from an unholy source, which we'll be late for if we don't leave now? Or for Thwarting my last Wile? Because I was very disappointed that those vegans opted to not vandalize the butcher-shop in Talbot Village.”

“No, dear boy, their change of heart was for the best. My regret comes from suggesting you don't have one. A heart, I mean.”

“What the devil - or deity, in your case - are you talking about?”

“When I said you wouldn't understand the love I felt in Lower Tadfield.”

“Why are you sorry? You were right. You must've been. After all, demons CAN'T love. Lust, envy, and greed are what my people can manage, and love often leads to those vices. It's not our nature to feel the mushy stuff, which I am thankful for.”

“I'm not sure that's true. Where is it written that 'demons can't love'?”

“Uh, in your precious _Bible_ , angel. The Creator is love, Hell is being cut off from Him, and all demons live in Hell. The occasional jaunts to Earth to Tempt humans don't change that demons dwell in Hell away from The Big Guy and therefore can’t feel love.”

“That might be the case for other demons, I'll grant you, but that isn't true for you, is it? You're _from_ Hell, and from Heaven before that, but you _dwell_ on Earth, as I do. Earth isn't cut off from God. Here, God is everywhere.”

“If you're about to ask if I've had a conversation with the Almighty recently, then let me tell you I have not, and I'd probably piss my expensive suit if I did, so - no offense, Aziraphale - but I hope you're as wrong about this as you are about the stylishness of tartan.”

“There's no need to be _rude_ , you old serpent. I was only trying to admit there is no reason why _you_ can't love, despite being more evil than good, even when other demons lack the ability. After all, you have learnt to be more, well, innovative than your fellows thanks to humans.”

“Your basis for thisss 'Anthony J. Crowley can love' theory ssstems from the fact that I've been on Earth for ssso long, and He is here?” 

“Stop hissing. There’s no need to get nervous about simple discourse.”

“I am not nervousss! What isss – ahem – _is_ ‘simple’ about your idea?”

“When humans love one another, it's really Divine love that He and gave to them which they are able to re-gift to each other. All true, selfless love humans - and certainly angels - feel initially comes from God. Really, God loves people twice; once through Himself directly, and again through other humans as mediums.”

“I am too sober to follow your celestial logic. We need booze if we’re going to talk theology so I can properly argue such nonsense. How does this even relate to me? Last time I checked, no blessed humans loved me.”

“I never said they did.”

“Of course you did. Er, didn't you? I thought you said He gives humans love, and that’s where they initially get the holy feeling to give to others…Unless you were implying _angels_ love me. In which case, I would have to wonder if you've had a bottle of brandy without me.”

“Not _angels_ , in the plural; just the one. Um, yes, just the one. You know?”

“Your naïveté would be funny if it weren't so sodding annoying. We went over this back when I found you swooning in the Library of Alexandria. Your people are programmed to love ALL of His creations, so you worrying over feeling something less-than-cold towards me, even though I'm supposed to be your 'enemy,' is a waste of your time. True, we have limitless time as immortals, but better to spend it drinking ourselves into a stupour than fretting.”

“Angels may love everything, but we’re also meant to instinctively Smite any demons we encounter, as they are considered beyond Saving. I don't feel that around you. Is that how you would describe your feelings for me, Crowley: Less-than-cold?”

“Oh, for Someone's sake, don't look at me as if I've mutilated a kitten or, worse, a _book_. I'm not really in the habit of analysing my feelings. I'd much rather contemplate Universal Morality or the most gratifying sleeping positions, but I am self-aware enough to know that I _like_ you. You know I think you're interesting when you aren't being a prudish snob.”

“I'm self-aware too, and I _do_ analyse my feelings. I've been around long enough to know when I love something generally for being part of Creation, or personally for being able to specifically appreciate its uniqueness. For instance, I generally love kittens – and consequently prefer them to remain un-mutilated, thank you - and I personally love books. I know the difference, and I know I personally am in love with you, Anthony J. Crowley, for your devious and reluctantly kind self.”

“...Oh...”

“My dear boy, are you quite all right?”

“I...the thing isss, I...don't have a sssodding clue what to sssay.”

“Oh, heavens, I didn't mean to make you so uncomfortable you started hissing again. I thought surely you already knew.”

“How would I know that?!”

“Well, where else would you get the capacity to love? God gives me love, and I have been loving you for eons, so after all that time, you've gotten enough of His love from me to love others yourself. Certainly, you've noticed you demonstrate your love for people?”

“No, I have not, and it's insulting for you to suggest I would.”

“What about when Adam's _true_ father was coming to Earth from Below? You stood beside me to fight him, even though we'd probably lose, because you have learnt to love humanity for itself, as I have, and wanted to protect it.”

“I do appreciate human creativity, but I didn't want to live in Hell on Earth because I would prefer to keep my current cosy lifestyle for _my_ benefit; not for _theirs_. Sorry to break it to you, but I acted selfishly, Aziraphale. You shouldn't be surprised.”

“Then why didn't you wait to see if the devil was just, I don't know, coming up to have a row with his son about refusing to be a conduit for disaster? Why assume the devil would kill, and act as though you would sacrifice your immortal soul - damned though it is - to stop him from killing?”

“Because...Oh, bless it, because _you_ were fighting him, and - flaming sword or not - he would have killed you. Not temporarily Discorporated, but truly destroyed you, and I would've been left here.”

“You didn't want to live without me?”

“As I said, Hell on Earth...Oh, stop _glowing_ like that, would you? You're going to blind me even with the expensive sunglasses. There's no reason for you to be so pleased. I very _selfishly_ and _demonically_ use you to avoid boredom and complicated paperwork courtesy of our Arrangement. I'd rather not go without those conveniences.”

“That's so sweet, you old romantic. I knew there was a spark of goodness in you.”

“SHUT UP! I do NOT! I may like you somewhat, but I _evilly_ use you for my own benefits, and if you had any inkling about the _other_ uses I would enjoy putting you to, well, your angelic little essence would be horrified by my lust and- Mmf! Mmm, tasssty...”

“Ah, thank you, my dear. I just wanted to show my appreciation, but shouldn't we - Ooh, GOODNESS, that's sensitive! - go to dinner now?”

“We could ssstay in and order inssstead.”

“I, erm, yes. Expressing love isn't a sin. And I haven't made an effort in ages. Don't want to let myself get too out of practise. And my dozen first-edition Kama sutras are just collecting dust, and not merely in the deliberate sense. So, yes, that would be, yes.”

“Good anssswer. Get in the bed, angel.”

“Was – was that there a moment ago?”

“Doesss it matter?”

“Well, I suppose not in the grand scheme of things, but I’ll only use it if you let me Miracle a tartan blanket onto it.”

“Fine, if you mussst.”

“Thank you. Much better. How about another - Oof! Cr-Crowley, you shouldn't - Ah! - put your tongue THERE!”

“Ssso delicioussss...Want more...”

“Gah, where are my clothes?!”

“Bessst not think about where there go.”

“Crowley, that was my favourite cardigan, and using magic to undress is cheating, and-”

“Husssh, my angel. Relax, you can trusst me.”

“I _do_ trust you, and I know you like tasting things, but propriety - OH!!!”

“All right, Azzziraphale?”

“Please, oh please, do that again. In fact, be a dear chap, and don't _stop_ doing that.”

“With pleasssure...”

“Uhh! Mmm...AHHH!”

“Ready, angel?”

“Crowley, if you don't take me this very moment, I swear to _Everyone_ I will Smite you.”

“Musssic to my earsss.”

“Oh, damn!”

“Oh, yesss! Ssslick and tight...”

“Go- Sa- Crowley!”

“Blesss....!”

“…”

“…”

“…That was a successful refresher in carnal knowledge. Much obliged, my dear.”

“Anytime, angel. _Really_ , anytime. You’ve got quite a fetching blush.”

“Oh, be quiet; you know these human bodies are harder to manage while making an effort.”

“Your effort was quite admirable.”

“Thank you. Yours was...even more so, given your vanity.”

“You’d better believe it...Aziraphale?”

“Hmm?”

“You were right. I do, ahem, feel the way you said, erm, about you. But don't, like, make a big deal about it, okay?”

“I'm happy you can ALMOST admit it. I love you too.”

“Yeah, yeah. So caviar for dinner?”

“Can we get that delivered?”

“ _We_ can, yes.”

“Cheating _again_? Well, what's once more in one evening?”

“I'm happy you can ALMOST see things my way.”


End file.
